Benjamin's POV
"I'm confused," Vicky said, her brows knitting together. "You said you were sure Reagan was your son, but then you told me earlier he's not your son. Dad, you're not making any sense at all!"
Her voice had softened; the anger from earlier was gone, replaced by that same restless curiosity she's always had. My little girl, always wanting to understand everything—even when the truth might hurt.
I took a slow breath. "I only found out the truth years later," I said quietly. "Just before my grandfather died, he confessed to me what really happened that night."
The air in the room felt heavier, thicker.
"When I left Violet in that motel," I continued, my throat tightening, "she woke up and ran after me. It was dark. Some drunk men found her on the street and—" I had to pause, the words catching. "They hurt her, Vicky. They… violated her."
"And up to this day, I cannot forgive myself for that. I was a total jerk, an asshole!" I said, guilt crawling up to me again.
